McGwire admission prompts the question: how big of a deal is it, anyway?

The revelation that Mark McGwire used steroids was, well about as surprising as the revelation that Conan O'Brien doesn't want to be demoted back to late nights on NBC. McGwire had admitted at the time to using androstenedione, a precursor to steroids back during his home run chase in 1998, and more recently had been accused by everyone from Jose Canseco (who talked about he and McGwire taking turns injecting each other in the butt when they were in Oakland) to members of the Senate who were outraged when McGwire appeared before them just to keep repeating 'I'm not here to talk about the past,'

To begin with, McGwire should have learned something from the andro episode. When he freely admitted to using andro, it made the headlines for a few days in 1998 and then disappeared into the 'deadlines,' or stories that have run their course and are out of sight and out of mind. If he'd done the same with steroids themselves it might be gone and forgotten by now.

More to the point though, McGwire's admission gives us a new opportunity to ask just how big a deal is it, and whether steroid users should be considered for the Hall of Fame. After all, just like in any sport, there have always been those who bent the rules to gain a competitive edge in baseball.

Gaylord Perry admitted to doctoring baseballs-- a major type of cheating by pitchers. He's in the Hall of Fame. Perry may be the only Hall of Famer to have been so open about his cheating but only an intentionally blind idealist will assume that he's the only one there who ever did. Pitchers have been scuffing balls and batters have been corking bats since-- well, the game was invented. We seem to be worried about how many home runs hopped out of there because of steroids but we seem less worried about how many got their extra oomph from a corked bat. In fact, an interesting case can be made by looking at Sammie Sosa (who during 1998 played Mickey Mantle to McGwire's Roger Maris impression.) Though Sosa has been accused at times of using steroids-- mainly based on his home run statistics and no other evidence (maybe he's just that good,) Sosa was caught once using a corked bat. Overall this is considered an unbecoming but relatively minor breech of baseball's ettiquette-- Sosa was suspended five games. But because of the unproven allegations of steroids it's almost a given that some sportswriters will, fairly or not, cite the corked bat episode as an excuse to not vote for Sosa, even though the real reason will be suspicion about whether he may have used steroids.

I'm not sure that coming clean earlier would have helped McGwire as it helped Perry. The culture has changed. When Perry came clean, his admission of cheating was balanced to a degree by his honesty in doing it. But when McGwire's 'bash brother' (or as we now know, 'stash brother') Jose Canseco admitted to using steroids, he was made out to be a buffoon (which he actually was, but his honesty was not only rewarding but has been borne out by events.) Maybe it's because Canseco named names, including McGwire's.

But be that as it may, we have to ask whether steroids are such an ultimate crime, or whether we should think of them more like a corked bat or a scuffed ball. In the overall scheme of the game, not that big of a deal.

Even in New York, not enough people can afford an afternoon at the ballgame

It's not often that I sympathize with the New York Yankees.

I once told a friend of mine when we were discussing which baseball teams we liked that at the end of the day I rooted for 'any team that doesn't play its home games in the Bronx.'

But you have to feel just a little bit for the Steinbrenner family about now.

They made a decision before the recession to put together and spend $1.6 billion for a new Yankee Stadium, replacing the legendary old park that was better known as 'the house that Ruth built,' recognizing the man who is still the greatest Yankee (and some believe still the greatest ballplayer) ever.

In order to ensure that their 'build it and they will come' philosophy would work, the Yanks went out and spent millions more on C.C. Sabathia, the cream of the free agent crop, adding to their team payroll which for years has been at the top of the list in baseball.

Of course to recoup all that revenue they jacked up the prices to sky high, even by New York standards. The luxury section, known as the 'legends suite,' sells for $500-$2500 per ticket, per game (plus a small additional surcharge for non-season ticket holders.) That of course is just to get your seat, amenities extra-- at inflated ballpark prices of course.

Only a funny thing is happening though. The Yankees built it, but they did not come.

The most expensive spots in America's costliest ballpark have become an embarrassment packing a financial sting to the proud New York Yankees, as the Legends Suite section in the infield has been filled only once in the six games since the $1.5 billion stadium opened last week.

On most days, the 1,895 seats that cost $500-$2,500 as part of season tickets and go up to $2,625 for individual games haven't been close to full. And as TV cameras pick up the patchy attendance with every pitch, it serves as a little tweak to America's richest baseball team.

"We're done talking about seats," Yankees president Randy Levine said on Wednesday. "We're not talking about seats."

Just a bit annoyed, wouldn't you say? The article goes on to point out that there are even a bunch of empty seats behind home plate (imagine seeing empty seats behind home plate in the old Yankee stadium.) Apparently during a recession even America's most storied franchise with a brand new park can't just keep raising prices like it was the mid 2000's when they began working on this project.

Even in New York, there aren't enough people with enough money to spend it like that any more.

Too cute by half

The first thing that Sarah Palin said at last night's debate was to Joe Biden, "Hey, can I call you Joe?"

Certainly that fit her 'folksy' outlook better than if she'd used 'Senator Biden,' though at a time when people are looking for knowlege and breadth of understanding about the myriad issues facing America today I'm not sure if 'folksy' is what they want. We've had eight years of 'folksy,' (remember that supporters of President Bush bragged about him being a 'C' student?) Where has it gotten us? Into a very, very tough spot, that's where.

But I was waiting for a specific 'Joe' line, and it came towards the end of the debate.

Palin responded to something Biden had said with, "Say it ain't so, Joe."

For all but the oldest of baseball fans, the zinger there was lost. But it's one of the most famous sayings to come out of an awful situation.

The 1919 Chicago White Sox, led by their star, "Shoeless Joe" Jackson (considered by many baseball historians to be the second greatest player of his day, after Ty Cobb) won the American league pennant and were favored to win the World Series. Gamblers bought off eight members of the team, including Jackson, paying them money to lose the series on purpose. And sure enough, they did lose. The next year the plot fell apart. As Jackson left the Federal Courthouse, the story is told that a young fan, who had always idolized Jackson and looked up to him as a role model, went up to the star with tears in his eyes and pleaded, "Say it ain't so, Joe." Of course the great Joe Jackson could only hang his head in shame as he knew he could not speak those three simple words.

Maybe in ninety years, Mark McGwire's "I'm not here to talk about the past," will be similarly enshrined in America's lexicon of phrases whose original meaning is slowly being lost, but somehow I doubt it. It's hard to imagine heartbreak in a Senate subcommittee the same way as it is to imagine it in a ten year old boy.

So what was Palin up to by alluding to baseball's most painful moment of the past century? And yes, even though it happened before virtually anyone alive today can remember I rank the 'Black Sox scandal' as a peculiarly painful moment in the history of baseball ahead of the tragic and untimely deaths of stars Lou Gehrig, Roberto Clemente and Thurman Munson, the ugly and horrible treatment that was accorded to Jackie Robinson all through the National League (and which came back to life though not so intensely and echoed again a quarter century later for Henry Aaron), the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn, the Pete Rose ban, the cancellation of the 1994 World Series and the recent 'roid rage' scandals. All painful moments for baseball, but none so painful as the Black Sox scandal. Apparently Palin wanted to suggest something deeper than just "I think you're wrong about that, Senator." Viscerally the pain from the first time that phrase was uttered still lingers, even among people who aren't quite sure why it should hurt-- but it does.

Not coincidentally, Barack Obama is from the south side of Chicago-- White Sox territory.

The best baseball had to offer

Today, December 31, 2007, marks the thirty-fifth anniversary of the death of Roberto Clemente. Let's look at why we must remember him, and what he meant, by looking at what happened in baseball this year:

In this steroid soaked year, when we saw Floyd Landis lose his final appeal of his disqualification for steroid use following last year's apparent Tour de France victory, Olympic medalist Marion Jones reverse years of denials and even a lawsuit alleging defamation to finally admit using steroids, and damning revelations involving many athletes in many sports, no sport was hit as hard as baseball. It was a year when Mark McGwire, just a decade removed from being named as the most admired man in America, couldn't even garner a quarter of the votes on Hall of Fame ballots-- suggesting that Big Mac won't ever make it to Cooperstown (since three quarters are needed.) It was a year that saw Barry Bonds break one of the greatest records in the game, and then not long after that get hit with an indictment for perjury in connection with his testimony to a federal grand jury investigating steroid use. And then it turned out that Bonds had a lot of company. A couple of weeks ago the Mitchell report came out and named scores of present and former players and slammed everyone from the commissioners office and the owners to the players union for fostering the use of performance-enhancing drugs at every level of the game.

Roberto Clemente was the opposite of all of that. To begin with, he was a great player. Probably nobody ever played better in right field. He could have played center, to be sure, but he was best in right and was a consistent gold glove winner. Clemente had a gun for an arm, and could throw strikes to home or to third base from anywhere in the outfield. In fact he rarely had to do so after the first few years because other teams learned that trying to run for the extra base was foolish if Clemente was fielding the ball. But when someone tried, they learned quickly that his arm didn't deteriorate, either in strength or in accuracy. He also got 3,000 hits. Unlike the fictional hero from the movie, Mr. 3000 (who gets 3000 hits, 'guaranteeing' his hall of fame induction and immediately retires with his team in a pennant race) Clemente finished with 3000 hits, but no one knew that his last regular season hit on the last day of the season was destined to be his last. His last game was a real disappointment-- in the 1972 playoff against the Reds, the winning run scored on a play that Clemente and the rest of the defending world champion Pirates could only watch helplessly, probably the least memorable ending ever to a thrilling playoff series--a wild pitch. But Clemente and the rest of the Pirates looked forward to getting back to the playoffs and trying to win another World Series in 1973. Clemente's 3000 hits would likely be higher if he hadn't missed a lot of games because of injuries (though he played hurt a lot too, and some of those injuries were caused by the fact that he wasn't a bit cautious about doing things like barreling into catchers if that was what he had to do to score or running into the outfield wall in order to make a catch.)

Ironically, in what is looked at more and more as another disappointment by many baseball fans, he just barely missed being voted onto baseball's all-century team in 2000. You may recall that that year it was all about Pete Rose. Rose, although he played before the steroids era, is banned from baseball for life because he gambled on himself (though always betting on his team to win.) Regardless of how anyone feels about Rose (and for the record I am a Reds fan) the fact is that the voting on the all-century team came down (thanks to the media looking for the 'big story') to a referendum on Rose. Now, Rose is a great player and there have been a lot of great outfielders but one has to wonder, given the fact that Rose barely edged Clemente for that final spot whether Clemente should have been on the team.

Certainly he should have, if baseball really means what it claims to mean about the character of players.

And that's where Clemente is really the greatest of players.

His code of ethics started with his family (where Roberto was the youngest of seven children). Both his parents worked very hard to support the family and taught Clemente about the value of work. They also taught him the value of honesty. He wrote in his biography (published just about the time of his death) that while playing for a Puerto Rican team for forty dollars a month, he was offered a contract in 1954 for $6000 by the Brooklyn Dodgers. He agreed verbally to accept it, and shortly thereafter got a phone call from the Braves organization offering him $20,000. This was a huge amount of money, especially in the early 1950's in Puerto Rico, and he called his mother for advice. Luisa Clemente had no doubts about what he should do. "You gave your word, you keep your word." Clemente signed with the Dodgers (though after one year in the minor leagues Clemente's contract was sent to the Pittsburgh organization via the draft, which worked differently then than it does today.)

But Clemente did a lot more than just show exemplary personal character. He realized he had been blessed to be in a very fortunate position, having the talent and having been given the opportunity to become an American baseball star, while others were not so fortunate. So he decided to give back, not only to his family and his community, but to the world.

His most famous quote was,

"Anytime you have an opportunity to make things better and you don't, then you are wasting your time on this Earth"

And more to the point he lived it. Clemente got involved in charity work, both in Pittsburgh and in his native Puerto Rico, before anyone expected baseball players to do that (remember he played while there was still a 'reserve clause' that essentially gave team owners the right to tell players what they would get paid with little recourse for the players other than to quit the team and even the highest paid ballplayers were paid less, even in real dollars than bench players make today.) Partly because of his charity work and partly because of his success as a Latino ballplayer, Clemente was idolized throughout Latin America, and it was for this reason that he would visit the area often for charitable work, knowing that his presence alone would lift the morale of millions (though he did a lot more than sign autographs.) He did the hard work, often working with his hands distributing food, medicine and other items to people who desperately needed them. He gave generously to those who were most in need.

And so it was hardly out of character for Roberto Clemente to do what he did on December 31, 1972. Most people who could were celebrating New Year's Eve festivities on that day. Clemente too was back home in Puerto Rico, where he would have been most welcome and honored at any celebration on the island. But he heard on the news about an earthquake that had struck Managua, Nicaragua. Thousands of people were injured or homeless. So instead of going to a party or enjoying a quiet evening at home he went to the airport in the middle of the night and helped load blankets, food and other relief supplies onto a rickety old airplane that was to fly to Nicaragua. And then he climbed onto the plane, to be there and help unload it when it landed.

The plane took off and a few minutes later it crashed into the sea.

And baseball has not been quite the same for thirty-five years.